


For This Is Love

by Fowluu



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25054129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fowluu/pseuds/Fowluu
Summary: I want Mym's development to go a certain way | Drabble
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	For This Is Love

The flamewyrm burned with passion.

The passion of hate, of disdain for humans, for their careless personalities, for their fleeting lives. She secluded herself from their frivolities after the war, after their deaths, ignited a fire within herself.

A fire that burned with loneliness.

She burned with the power of the great volcano in which she sheltered herself for decades, alone, safe, free from the complexities of relationships.

The ferocity of that volcano came with her when she left it, form changed, to fit a mold that she had constructed in her own mind in her years of isolation. She had built a fantasy that she wished to see fulfilled, crafted carefully based upon the humans she had known before her seclusion.

She made herself the perfect form to be loved, to express love, to experience love.

To not be lonely. 

Her passion was not always received positively. Though she begged and pleaded, expressed herself with desperation, the feelings writhing within her, her love was never reciprocated. Yet she persisted, insisted what she felt was love, that she was no longer alone, never again would she be alone, for she had the prince.

The prince saved her from loneliness. 

Still, she wailed, when she was told her love was not returned, that she was never loved. That a greatwyrm could not be with a human, could not be loved by a human, as told by her siblings. There was no romance for her to have in this relationship.

Romance was the only form of love she knew, as expressed to her decades before by Mym, on that fateful day, the sacrifice of romantic love, of how deeply it burned. 

It used something within her as fuel, and it burned her up.

The fire of the volcano within her went cold that day, doused by tears. 

The subjects of the Halidom were not unwise to her suffering. They offered kind words, they offered gifts.

There was a kindly archbishop who made her hot tea to warm the cold left by the dead fire in her belly. There were a pair of chefs that brought her cookies, to sweeten the bitterness left clinging in her mouth. A paladin clad in orange who was no stranger to unrequited love lent her an ear, to use words to remove the poison left in her. 

Everyone who visited her was kind, had something to offer, and asked nothing in return. 

With each visit came a growing realization, like little embers, to settle back within her, to reignite her fire, her passion.

When the flamewyrm was alone, she wailed once more. For this was love.


End file.
